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Kurt Vonnegut. Charles Bukowski. JD Salinger. Edgar Allan Poe. Chuck Palahniuk.

If you would combine all the badass, tragic authors I love, it would ultimately suggest by your assuming brain that I am a woman of weird, dark humour and sarcastic shitholes (oh look, I'm cursing too!). Yep, I am a product of macabre literature + transgressive fiction + contemporary poetry with no rhymes and meters. Not really a good combination, actually.

Amidst all the sexist (and rather twisted) logic, this is how I got my weird sense of humor. Ask Trisha, my sister. Ask Joella, my colleague. Everything I say has a little political punch. Or rants on societal senselessness. I don't know, I just do.

Truth be told, I am not afraid—okay, let's try not to be an arrogant prick—I am scared. Utterly terrified. The whole idea of "let's all be Barbies because SOME men thinks that the whole world is Pornhub" is still perpetrating; or maybe it's just me? I mean hell, there are people who lives in a bat cave. Frozen in a medieval state of conservatism.